You know what I see?I see the slightly discheveled hair, because it's not like I've got my life in order. I see the faint impression of hickies on my neck, because it's not like I'm in a relationship. I see the empty look in my eyes, the lifeless movement of my smile. I see no makeup, no effort to even look decent for the public. I see my sunken shoulders, because I am beat, I am tired, I am battered. I see my father's forehead, resting on top of his eyebrows. I see a facade, a ghost, a mirage, a puppet put up infront of a camera to cast this impression that I am happy, I am successful, I am beautiful. A reassurance to people that I am alive and I am doing okay. A smile, to tell them that I am happy.

How I feel looking at this picture, I feel ashamed that I couldn't pull a proper smile. I feel sad, because what part of this says that I am organized and I know what I am doing? How does my posture show that I am casual, I am cool, I am chill, when it just makes me feel like I am unprofessional and I have almost given up? The look in my eyes is enough to make people not worry, but only I can tell that I have studied the human face enough to know the elements to a "true" smile, therefore know how to emulate it. It's not a real smile. All the components are there, but it's not a real smile. My eyelashes aren't even curled, there's no beautiful frame of little black lines to emphasize the blandness of my eye colour. It's just black, an endless black, a black that contains nothing, because I contain nothing. I didn't even try with that smile. It makes me feel lazy, as if it took all of my strength to muster up a simple smile, and I couldn't even do that right.

I'm not writing this to be self deprecating or saying I am not beautiful. I am not. Not on the outside, at least. Everything about me in this photograph is accurate in the portrayal of who I am on the inside, the kind of person I am. If I were an employer and Iooked at this photo, I would say that this person, this person here, they're nothing. They've got nothing in them. Any potential they had, they threw away. They've got no ambitions, no aspirations, no inspiration. They're not trying to succeed, they've given up on that dream long ago. This person is not happy, this person is not okay, this person has a deep, deep sadness etched into their being, threading through their bodies like the arteries set deep within their core. This person looks miserable, this person looks distressed, this person looks frustrated with herself and with the world, but they don't let that form into any sort of art, they don't do anything with it at all. They just let it dissipate. They just let it go. Like they do with many things in their life, they let it go.